My Mother's Affair
by Tutu
Summary: *Not AU* *B/A* Buffy's daughter must face the consequnces of her affair. Soon, her daughter develops a friendship with the mysterious 'Angel'. But what happens when the father finds out?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. 'Cept for Tina, she's mine. Take that Mutant Enemy!  
  
Rating: Eh, PG-13  
  
Pairing: Kind of B/R. But it is totally, completely, 100% B/A.   
  
Timeline: Season 5, 6, and 7 never happened here. This spins off during season 4-ish.  
  
A/N: I know. I'm starting another story when I should be working on others. But you see, my muse is psycho. She's insane. She lives in a purple box with the words "Barney's Lover" painted on the outside. I really don't wanna talk about it. Anyway, I will be updating the other stories soon, once I actually have *good* ideas instead of the usual bad ones. Call me cooky.   
  
And this actually isn't completely AU. I know! What a shocker! Okay, I'm gonna go lie down... and stay down.  
  
Also, it is possible to choke on pon-poms. Believe me.   
  
Dedication: To my brother, Doug. You're weird. And to my buddy, Ava Fire. Hugs for editing. And to the person or persons who created FANTA! You/s made me hyper.  
  
******************************************  
  
Hi. My name is Tina. And my mother is having an affair.  
  
Yep. You heard me. My mother is having an affair. Weird, huh? Well, it is to me.   
  
It really shouldn't be too surprising. My mom is beautiful. I even heard one of my friends call her hot. Something I never wanna experience again. She's also really funny, and she's smart enough to give us blondes a good name. Why wouldn't any man want her? But that's not the question. My question, is why wouldn't she want my dad?  
  
It's not like he's a bad guy or anything. He and I just don't have much in common. You see, he wants the perfect American daughter; you know, the cute blonde cheerleader with a never ending stream of boyfriends and is a shoe-in for Homecoming Queen. Well, if it helps, I am blonde. And I did go to cheerleading camp when I was eight, but I tripped and almost choked on my pon-poms.   
  
So, I guess he's okay. It's just, he's never around. His business trips can last up to two months, sometimes even three. There have even been times when we're sitting at the dinner table and the phone rings, requesting Mr. Riley Finn. By the time he comes back his food is cold and my mom and I are asleep. And once we wake up, he's back at work again.  
  
It's been like that since... forever. So, yeah, I guess the lackage of my Dad would make mom's eyes wander. But even when he's here... nothing. There's just nothing there.  
  
I'm not naive enough to think that they should just swipe the dishes off the table and start doing it on the napkins the moment they see each other. Actually, I'm thankful they don't have that much passion in their lives. 'Cuz, ew. But there's not even a kiss. There's barely a hug. Yeah sure, I'm not behind their bedroom doors (again, thankfully), but I still believe that once I popped out, not much happened after.  
  
Maybe I'm exaggerating. After all, I don't know what a normal marriage looks like. We've never been a *normal* family. I can't tell you how many times I've walked in conversations about vampires, demons, and angels. They always fight about angels. I don't know why. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that I won't get the psycho gene. Aunt Willow (my mom's best friend) says that they're very eccentric, and they need an output for their 'special' interests. Okay, but why did it have to be the paranormal? Couldn't they have taken yoga together? Or maybe they could join a book club, or movie club, or, whatever. Hey! I know! Why don't they work on trying to get their marriage together?  
  
But I really don't know if they will. Remember the whole affair thing? I found out last month when I came home from my friend's house early. I went through the back door, 'cuz mom wanted to put this bell-thing that rings every time you open the front door. She said it was for sentimental value, then she muttered something about a "damn mummy-hand". Again, we're not normal. Anyway, I heard slurping noises in the living room, (yes, slurping), and I figured that Mom was watching a horror movie or a Lifetime Special.   
  
I went in, and saw what is still *the* most shocking/disgusting thing in my life. My mother was making-out. But not to Mr. Riley Finn. Oh no, Mrs. Buffy Anne FINN was shoving her tongue down a dark-haired, 40-somthing's throat. I resisted the urge to scream (or vomit), and went out into the backyard. Trying to convince myself that I just went temporarily insane and that my mom was actually watering the plants.  
  
But it didn't work. I walked back in, praying that the guy who was now destroying my life decided to leave. No such luck.  
  
So I pulled a peeping-Tom and watched. And that's when I saw what had always been missing. Passion, lust, love. This wasn't an extremely disturbing mid-life crisis for mom. She was in love. And whoever 'the guy' was, he loved her back.   
  
I went into the backyard again, and sat on the swing-set that Dad had built for me. I felt sick. Really sick. Worse then cramps, worse then the flu, worse then the frikkin' eboli-virius. Okay, I've never had the eboli-virius, but nothing could compare to this. What was I supposed to do? Should I tell Dad? Should I confront mom? Should I run away to Uncle Xander's?   
  
I decided to shut down my brain, and went to doing my English homework. As I tried to re-read the same paragraph for the sixth time, I heard that little annoying bell and hushed voices making promises they should not be making. When I heard the door shut, I gathered my stuff and went back in, trying not to break into tears when I saw my mother's flushed face.  
  
"Hi honey! Didn't know you'd be back so soon," she picked up a can and began to water the plants.  
  
"Yeah, couldn't finish my homework at someone else's house," I said, trying to not look in her eyes.  
  
She smiled, "The only way that I could ever get *my* homework done was when I spent the night at Willow's. Maybe I should force you to go there for school-work."  
  
She looked at me, trying to get a response. How could I when I saw a hickey forming on her neck?  
  
"Uh, sure, whatever."  
  
"That was a joke. Are you feeling okay?" she asked, her brow furrowing.  
  
"Yeah, just tired. I'm gonna go upstairs and take a nap. Could ya call me down for dinner?"  
  
"Of course," but she still look concerned. "It should be ready in about fifty minutes."  
  
"Okay. I'm gonna start my homework." I walked out of there, feeling my mother's eyes on my back as she tried to figure out what was wrong.   
  
Dad came home later, but had to leave during dinner for work. Again. Damn it! I wanted to throw my very delicious drumstick at his head and yell 'till he sat down. Didn't he see? Didn't he know? If he could just stay for dinner maybe mom would quit being crazy and fall in love with her husband! But I sat still and quiet while he got his coat and briefcase, and left.  
  
Mom stared after him, sighed a little, and began washing up. She wasn't upset. Didn't need to be. She had an Irish-lover to keep her happy. And to make me miserable.  
  
That was a month ago. And now I know mom didn't have just a quickie on the couch. I'm still seeing signs all over the place. She has to have the house neat, which is odd 'cuz she hates to clean. She buys new perfume, new clothes, and I even saw her slip a couple of condoms in the bag at Wal-Greens when she thought I wasn't watching. Ugh.   
  
I hope this ends soon. I hope my parents will wake up to each other and fall in love all over again. If they were ever in love in the first place.  
  
But it's not gonna happen, is it? Because my mom is already in love, but not with my dad.   
  
********************************  
  
TBC... What do you think? Should I continue? Or should I go back under my rock? 


	2. Questions, tears, and thongs

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except for the story idea and for Tina. You want proof? Fine, search me. But you don't have to :) I also receive no royalties for this. Actually, people would rather pay me to *stop* writing then to keep me going.  
  
Pairing: B/A, Riley's just a little bump in the road.  
  
Rating: PG to PG-13. I don't start cussing until the fourth chapter.  
  
AN: Wow, this update came quick. It was easier then I thought it would be. Actually, that's a lie. I lie a lot. It's not healthy. Anyway, I am working on my other stories. It's just, you know that feeling where you just want to pick up the monitor and smash it on your head? Yeah, I've been feeling like that lately. Plus I'm in an extreme amount of physical pain. You should see my bruises.   
  
And just so there's no confusion, Tina doesn't talk at all in this, except for the beginning. You'll see. If the dialogue is at all confusing? Tough. Just kidding. Just tell me so I can edit it.  
  
And Alicia08? Thanks for not bitch-slapping me. And thanks for the forehead description. I needed that.   
  
Thanks to: Octoburn, Meg586, LissaMarie, Laura C, spoiledsquish, Flame, Alicia08, shahid, Tariq, and chazza. Thanks for the feedback.   
  
Dedicated: To my bruises. Thanks for being so purple. And to Irina. I really like the bracelet. And the rocks.   
  
*****************************  
  
Shopping. A time honored mother-daughter experience.  
  
"Do you think I need thongs? Maybe we should go to Victoria's Secrets..."  
  
Shopping. A terrible, horrible mother-daughter bonding experience.  
  
"No mom. You do not need thongs," I say, praying that the mental imagery will go far, far away.  
  
"Why not? They might make mom-thongs. I could pull them off."  
  
Aaah! Again with the imagery! I should go lie down by the food court.  
  
"Mom, I don't think you should impress dad by scarring me for the rest of my life."  
  
"Your father? Wha... oh! Right. Sex, with your dad... Hey! Gucci."  
  
You know, if she wanted an affair so bad she should've learned how to cover better.  
  
I know what you're thinking: I'm handling this extremely well. Actually, if I'm not witty at least three hours a day, I might pass out. Fact is, I feel like punching my parents. My mother in particular. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother. In fact, we're extremely close. But I still wanna give her at least one good bruise.  
  
While my mom checked out some purses, I went over to the bed section. I need to buy some more pillow cases. Why? I literally cried a hole through 'em.  
  
Two nights ago, Dad got called out to Phoenix. I was 'this close' to throwing him in the closet and nailing the door shut. I could do it too! I'm freakishly strong for my age. Besides, I could make a hole through the wood and slip him a Pop-Tart every now and then.  
  
But I didn't. Obviously. Otherwise I'd be talking to you in a straight-jacket.  
  
Anyway, I heard a small 'kerplump' in my mom's room that night, so I walked down the hall to make sure she's okay. Believe me, I'm still wallowing in sticky regret.  
  
The door was cracked open an inch or two, and a small beam of light poured through it. Well, I wonder who could be in there?   
  
Burglars? Nah.  
  
Aliens? Possibly.  
  
Elvis? Hey! It could happen.   
  
You know what? I won't even tell you. I'll give you exactly one guess.  
  
If you said a sauntering Irish man with a sexy yet lumpy forehead who has a habit of putting his mouth on my mother's, you're correct! What do you win? A free trip to the Seaworld in hell with yours truly.  
  
I saw his black leather-duster land on my 'father's' desk, his shoes being flopped on the middle of the floor. Who does he think he is? Elvis? Hey, it did happen.  
  
Thankfully I didn't see any more articles of clothing follow, except for black socks. God! Doesn't he have any color in his wardrobe?  
  
I hate him.  
  
Then I heard my mother's voice slip through the crack.  
  
"Did you talk to Wesley?"  
  
Who's Wesley?  
  
'They guy' hesitated. "Yes."  
  
Seriously, who's Wesley?  
  
"And? What did he say?"  
  
Was that fear in her voice? Why was mom afraid? That the wedding ring she was wearing will burn her finger off when 'the guy' touched her?   
  
Wow, I'm bitter.  
  
"He doesn't know. He's going to look through the Shanshu prophecy again, but there's no guarantee that it'll last."  
  
Shanshu? Isn't that the Japanese restaurant off of 5th Street? And what's this about a prophecy?  
  
"So, this isn't permanent? This could all go away?"  
  
What's all going away? Their affair? Why is my mom so afraid?  
  
"I didn't say that. There's still a great possibility that everything will work out."  
  
My anger has turned to curiosity by this time, but I still wanna punch them. What's going on? Wish I was psychic. I wonder if I could have my own T.V. show?  
  
"Yeah, 'cuz we know how great things work out for us. Remember when I sent you to hell? Or that time when you tried to kill me? Everything went perfectly well then too."  
  
Did my mother have a bout a psychoness when I wasn't watching? I think she spends way too much time around Windex.  
  
"Buffy, please. Just calm down."  
  
Don't tell my mother to calm down!  
  
"Don't tell me to calm down!"  
  
What she said.  
  
"Buffy, raising your voice isn't going to help. Besides, isn't Tina home?"  
  
He knows me? How does he know me?  
  
"Yes. Fine. I'll calm down. But you have to realize... I've been waiting for something like this since I was sixteen. And I don't want to finally have this, this, whatever 'this' is, only to have it taken away again."  
  
What's being taken away? Why is she crying? Why am I crying?  
  
"Buffy, don't worry. No matter what happens, things will be different for good. Even if my humanity goes away tomorrow, we'll still find a way to be together," his voice wavered a little, "I promise I won't leave you again. I don't think I could."  
  
I feel like I'm watching a movie. The kind that Uncle Xander pretends to hate but ends up crying buckets later. Only problem is, I missed the first act and have no idea what's going on.  
  
"You'd have to go," she whispers, her tears so big that they're soaking the red carpet.  
  
"What?" he asks, looking confused.   
  
Ha! Welcome to my world.  
  
"I love you. I love you so much that it hurts to breathe," she took a deep breath, "but Tina will always come first. Always. She's my daughter. Had things been different..." she drifted off, looking at him, hazel eyes meeting dark brown.  
  
"Buffy, I don't care if she's my daughter or not. I'd still love her as much as I do you. Granted it would be different," he smiled a little, as did my mom, but her lips turned back into a little quiver.  
  
"I'm sorry. But I've worked so hard at trying to give her a normal life, and I can't let anything get in the way of it. Even you."  
  
Normal? Normal! What house does she live in? Because I assure you, there's no white-picket-fence here.  
  
"Besides, she needs to be close to Riley. I don't want her to have the same relationship with her father like I had with mine."  
  
Did 'the guy' just growl at my dad's name? Maybe I should get him some Ritalin.  
  
"Buffy, please don't mean that."  
  
She just smoothed out her skirt.  
  
"Tina comes first."  
  
Gee mom, thanks. No pressure there. But I have to admit that I feel some sort of satisfaction at knowing her priorities. Then why do I feel some inkling of guilt?  
  
"And if everything goes to plan?" he asks, hope brimming in his face.   
  
I really hate this guy.  
  
"Then things will be different. And you'll both be first," she smiled for real this time, her eyes glowing with the same hope.  
  
"Well, nothing's changed right now. Night's still young. What do you think we should do?"  
  
Oh crap. Please don't let him be suggesting what I think he's suggesting.  
  
"I don't know?" she moved onto his lap, her mischievous smile hinting a few things on her mind. "What do *you* think we should do?"  
  
And that's my cue to leave. I slowly stand up and back away from the door, my eyes transfixed on the floor. Ugh! Why do they have to make those noises?  
  
I walk back into my room and close the door behind me. I went over to my desk and picked up a framed picture of me and dad at an ice-skating rink when I was four. I was already picturing 'the guy's' face in place of my father's.  
  
I didn't mean to! I didn't want to! But his image kept popping up.  
  
That's when the tears came full force. I love my daddy! Please don't let anyone else take him away! I love him! I don't want anyone else!  
  
Right?  
  
And here I am now. Trying to find pillow sheets that matched my old ones. Don't know why I'm bothering. Changes are coming anyway.  
  
"Hey Tina." I turn to see my mom walking toward me, pink and purple bags on either arm. "I was right. They do make mom-thongs," she smirked as I groaned, and I tried not to jump off the escalator.  
  
As we walked to the car, I turned my head back to the entrance and saw 'the guy' standing behind the shadows of some bushes. He caught my eye and nodded his head a little.  
  
Many changes are coming.  
  
****************************  
  
TBC... How was it? Was it 'eaten by sharks' good? Or was it 'incredible English-muffin' good? 


	3. Poor Mickey' part I

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the incredible Mr. Whedon. Bless you and your deranged little mind Joss.  
  
Pairing: B/A  
  
Rating: Still fairly PG-13 for right now.  
  
A/N: I know, it's been forever. You wanna know why? Because my computer's on crack, that's why! Something went funky on the E drive and I lost so much stuff. Ugh, you should have seen it; there were tears, screams, death, and oddly enough, some childhood friends came back to visit. Yeah, I know I have issues. But updates should be quicker now, and since this is only Part 1 of this chapter, the next update will be in a few days.  
  
Thanks for your patience!  
  
And no worries, the good B/Aness will be in just a couple of chapters. So, enjoy!  
  
Thanks to: Angel/Buffy, Michelle, RachyRedHead (you're a doll!), Kendra3, Octoburn, Fiona, Meg586, Rory3, SaffronAngel, Rebecka, kathleen, Nelo (yeah, I am pretty twisted), Chris, LissaMarie, buffster, angelicxws, Queen Boadicea, shahid, Emba (hun, if I don't see an update soon...grrr!), Tariq, and Alicia08 (don't hit too hard!)  
  
You guys kick ass!  
  
Dedicated to: Fire. You annoy me, I annoy you, I'm glad our friendship works out.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Well, isn't this a nice, normal picture. There's my dad, sitting a couple of chairs away from me, reading the newspaper about some new murder (for some reason, there's an abnormal amount of deaths in Sunnydale, I blame the teachers at schooll). Then there's my mom at the stove, trying to make pancakes in the shape of Disney characters, though Mickey Mouse usually comes out looking like he was in some helicopter accident. And of course, here I am, finishing up the last of my homework, or attempting to anyway. To anyone looking in, we'd be the perfect 7th Heaven family. Except that we don't go to church all that often, and the tinsy little fact that my mother's having an affair.  
  
His name is Angel by the way, the guy that my mom's seeing. Angel.  
  
Anyone else think that's the sissiest name ever? Not that Buffy's any better, but you get what I mean. I found out a couple of nights ago; lets just say I heard it loud and clear from my mom's bedroom. Please, don't add on any additional imagery, I'm already disturbed as it is.  
  
But back to me and my mother's burnt pancakes, I'm beginning to think that my mom knows that I know more then I should. She keeps frowning at me every now and then, but not in a 'I-can't-believed-you-flunked-another-math-test' way, but more of a 'I-hope-I'm-raising-you-right-and-you-won't-grow-up- psychotic' kind of way. Then again, I did flunk another algebra test the other day, so maybe I'm imagining it.  
  
"Hey Buff," says my Dad, and I can tell she's cringing from here; she hates being called Buff.  
  
"Yes,*Ry*," she replies.  
  
"Did you see this article in the paper? The one about Marina Crownsed?" he asks, completely oblivious.  
  
"No, what's it about?"  
  
"Apparently there was a large dispute between her and her husband. He ended up shooting her in the head, there was blood everywhere," he said.  
  
Ugh. Thanks for that lovely picture dad, now how will I eat Mickey?  
  
"He suspected she was having an affair," dad continued, "with the plumber of all people."  
  
My mom's grip on the chair was tight enough to make the wood splinter. "How 'bout that," she said, her mouth in a straight line.  
  
"It's amazing what happen to some people nowadays," my dad kept going, not noticing that my mother was endangering an innocent chair's life.  
  
"It sure is," she let go of the chair and went to pour herself some orange juice.  
  
Dad looked at his watch and folded the paper. "Well, I've gotta go. Walsh would have no problem firing me if I'm late." He got up and kissed me on the cheek, "Bye Princess."  
  
"Bye daddy," I said, trying to get the syrup to make a funny face.  
  
"Bye Buffy," he tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her head slightly so he met with her cheek. He didn't notice, and he grabbed his suitcase and left out the door.  
  
The room was really quiet, and I could tell my mother was thinking extremely deep thoughts. Way too deep for me.  
  
"Uh, mom?" I question, trying to bring her back down to earth.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah, fine," she answers, "We should get you to school. You need to learn and stuff."  
  
"Right," I said.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
You know those days when you think it can't get any worse, but then some idiot says "Well look at it this way, it can't get any worse?", and then it rains and everybody dies? Yeah, that's the day that I'm having. So I'm at school, right this moment, doing my best not to pass out in my chair from surprise. There he is. Angel. Angel O'Connor. Standing directly in front of me. I see his name written on the board, with the word "Substitute" underneath it.  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
This can't be happening! He cannot be my substitute! Not that I have any mushy feelings towards Mrs. Najul, but no way in Hell can this jerk be standing there, looking at me, looking at everyone else, getting prepared to teach.  
  
This isn't happening.  
  
He smiles, and I can already see Courtney and some other chicks swooning (even though he's frikkin' forty!), but since I know where those lips have been, I try not to look directly at 'em.  
  
"Hello. I'm Mr. O'Connor. I'll be substituting for Mrs. Najul, and don't ask me when she'll be back because I have no idea." He walked around the desk and leaned up against it. "I don't expect any of us to be friends soon, and I don't really want to concentrate on getting to know all of you, considering that my life is fairly complicated."  
  
He looks at me expectantly, like I should know something. And I do know something, but how dare he assume anything!?  
  
"So, that being said, I would like you all to open to page 153 in you history books and tell me what you know about indentured servants," said Angel, scanning his eyes around the room, purposely missing my gaze. As usual, no one raised their hands, because, well, no one knows the answer.  
  
Did I mention that this can't be happening?  
  
"Right then. We'll take some notes," he turned and walked over the chalk board, scribbling down things in a fairly neat hand. "An indentured servant was someone who was not able to pay their way from their home country to the New World, so they ended up working once they set shore to some of the more wealthier settlers to get out of debt. Now, who can tell me where these people were from." Again, no hands were raised. He frowned and went to his desk and picked up a piece of paper.  
  
"Christina Finn," he said, knowing fully well who I am, but still tried to look around for me.  
  
"It's just Tina," I say tightly, wondering if I could stab him with my ball- point pen.  
  
"Okay, Tina. What countries did these people descend from?"  
  
How the hell should I know? I don't do my homework! "Umm, Ireland?"  
  
"Perfect. Yes, Ireland "supplied" many of the indentured servants because the country was so poor..." he kept talking, and people were actually taking notes. Except for Courtney. She was drooling.  
  
Seriously! This can't be happening!  
  
The rest of the class went like that; Mr. O'Connor pretending, me pretending, Courtney drooling. I couldn't believe it though! Here was the guy that I had already sworn to hate for the rest of my life, and he was teaching me about Benjamin Franklin. What the heck is up with universe? This guy made my mother sneak around her husband and her daughter's back just to get some. He was tearing my family apart slowly but surely, and he obviously had an extent knowledge of Ireland.  
  
When the bell rang, he told me to stay after class, making me sweat like a prostitute in church.  
  
"Yeah, what do you want?" I asked a bit harshly.  
  
"I know you know," he said simply, sitting down and leaning back into Mrs. Nujal's chair.  
  
I stared at him. How are you supposed to respond to that? 'Ah, gee, thanks for noticing Mr. O'Connor. Your observational skills have truly inspired me to hone my own so now I can know everything that you do to my mother! Now if you don't mind, I have an excruciating math class to go to. Have a great day!'  
  
Somehow I don't think that would go over well.  
  
"Yeah? So?" I finally ask, my bitterness beginning to slip through.  
  
"I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want to hurt your mother, because I don't think I can cause her more pain," he took a deep breathe, "Tell me. What do you want to happen?"  
  
'For you to die a horrible, painful, bloody death, preferably with a sword through your heart,' I think automatically, but not wanting to say it out loud. Why didn't I say it? He doesn't want to hurt my mother. Again. Which means that they have a history, which means that this far more complicated then I previously thought.  
  
But most of all, *I* don't want to hurt my mother.  
  
"I don't know what I want to happen," I say, feeling slightly helpless. "I don't know what to do in this situation; I've never been in this situation."  
  
He smiled. "Me either." He reached over and took out a lumpy envelope. "Give this to your mother, tell her you know. Maybe you two can figure out a solution."  
  
I hesitated, knowing that if I took that envelope, I could be making the biggest mistake of my life. And trust me, I've made many mistakes.  
  
I nodded, and took it from him, noticing that he had a ring on his left hand.  
  
"Are you married too?" I ask, gaining more curiosity on this man.  
  
"No. Not now anyway." His eyes spoke the implications, and I again didn't know how to respond.  
  
I shook my head, trying to get back to reality. "I need a pass."  
  
"Of course," he wrote one down, I thanked him, and left the class to go to my locker.  
  
Did that really just happen?  
  
************************************************************  
  
TBC... the next part should be up in a couple of days, that is if my computer comes back healthy from rehab. 


	4. Melting

Disclaimer: All characters ('cept Tina) belong to Fox, Joss, etc... a.k.a., not me.

Pairing: B/A, B/R

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Remember that time when I said the next update should be in a few days? Look at how I lied! I cannot apologize enough for the complete lack of updates lately (as in a year), and I have no excuse. Please oh please bitch-slap the frell out of me, I'm willing to take it. I will work so hard at being disciplined, and I will try my best to update at least every week. I will finish this story whether it kills me or not. Preferably not.

By the by, the word 'frell'? Not mine. From "Farscape". Watch "Farscape". Be Happy.

Thanks to: Pretty much everyone that is still reviewing even after a year has gone by. Alicia08 and Emba in particular, thanks ya guys! Big hug! Unless you don't like touching people.

Dedicated to: Oy, to Jill Valentine. The-disciplined-one. She who writes fic nearly every hour of every day! All hail the Depp-lover!

You know, so many people completely overlook the importance of ice cream and its healing capabilities. Take cookie-dough for example. Your day goes by, anger and heartbreak mounts with each passing minute. Yet one lick of this delectable treat sends you into a creamy heaven, the dough blocking any pain that might reach you.

But even four scoops of Chocolate-Chip-Cookie-Dough isn't enough to overcome the amount of crap that I had to go through today. I met my mother's lover, her dish on the side, her private pool boy, her secret boy-toy that she only takes out when Daddy's away on business. He, Mr. Angel O'Connor, wants me to confront my mother about their "situation". Tonight. As in right now . How? How the frell am I gonna be able to do this? I don't know what to say, how to act... should I be blunt and throw it in her face? Or should I be gentle and pretend that I'm okay with it? Whose feelings should come first: mine or hers?

Just to let ya know, I really, really want mine to be first.

So I'm gonna take another route completely, and find out why things have gotten so bad between my parents. I don't really know much about their past, or how they even met. I've always pictured my dad seeing her across a flowery-meadow, and everything gets really fuzzy (since that's always what happens when you meet your soulmate), and then they would feel a magnetic pull towards each other as their hearts cried out as they finally found their mate.

"Hey mom," I ask, while she stuffs her face with cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip ice cream.

"Yeah?"

"How'd you and Dad meet?"

She looks up slowly, surprised by the question.

"I dropped a bunch of books on his head."

"Oh," well, there goes the fuzzy-scenario. I can't help but feel disappointed, since, as their daughter, it is my duty to come up with the most un-realistic possibility for the both of them, shooting all that true-love fluff into every corner of the story. Too bad it's just that: a story.

"Tina, is everything okay? You've been pretty withdrawn lately, did something happen at school?" she questions, and I can't help but wonder how dumb she thinks I am. Because lets face it, she's not the Queen of concealment, it's not that hard to notice mom's pathetic excuses. Uncle Giles always said that she was the worst liar he ever met.

"It's mainly stress. You know that ten-page research paper due next week?" I asked, and she nods her head. "Yeah, I should probably start that."

"You probably should."

Okay, now we're steering off course here. I'm gonna change the subject immediately, especially before she asks about my last physics project. "So, when you and dad met, was it like love at first sight?"

She looks at me again, and I can tell she's getting uncomfortable with the conversation... too damn bad. I'm gonna get answers and I'm gonna get them NOW! Boy, when did I become so assertive?

"Well," she begins, "Kind of. I mean, your father was really nice. He made a joke, and it was funny. I can't remember it right now, I'd have to ask Willow. She was there with me when it happened. But love at first sight?" She shook her head. "I had just gotten out of a really deep, long relationship just a few months before. When I met Riley, I don't know. I just wasn't looking for something new. Your father just kind of landed on my lap. Figuratively speaking, of course."

Figuratively? I hope so.

"What happened in your last relationship? Did he turn out to be a big dud?" I'm really trying not to notice the light in her eyes when I asked that. Was she talking about Angel? He seems fairly dud-ish, but one might say that I'm just a tad bit bias. Ooh, look at that chunk of cookie dough, I'm gonna eat it.

"Oh, it was just a relationship. You know, fell in love, things got hard, we broke up. Typical boyfriend-girlfriend stuff," she says, casting her eyes downward. Me-thinks mommy's hiding something. Gosh, whatever could it be?

"So you and dad, how'd you finally get together?"

She raised her eyebrow at that, "Where are all of these questions coming from?"

"My never-ending well of curiosity, oh dear mother of mine. I mean, I have a right to ask these questions, right?"

"Of course you do, honey," she says quickly, placing her hand on top of mine. "It's just, you've never been interested before, I was just wondering."

"Uh-huh. So, how'd you and dad finally get together?"

She retracts her hand off of mine, and it looks like she's thinking back to when she was nineteen. "We became friends at first, although I think your Dad always had a bit of a crush on me. Who can blame him?" she smiles, and continues, "I just started seeing what a great guy he was, and we ended up on a few picnics and dates. Our relationship just kinda grew out of that. And it became good, and stable."

And boring. No fuzziness. No magnetic-pull. Dang.

"When'd you know that he was the right guy for you? The one that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?"

Her eyes grew dark and sad, with a tinge of.... fear? "Tina, I don't think..." she cut herself off, looking deep into her melting ice cream, watching it drip onto her manicured-hand. "It wasn't really a decision we made, Tina. Some things just sorta happen."

Gee, can she vague that up for me a little?

"Like what things?"

She takes a deep breathe, folding her arms into her lap. "Tina, I love you. You know that right?"

I nod, of course I know that. That's at least one thing I've never had to question.

"To go cheesy on you, you're the light of my life. The best friend that I ever had. Nothing can ever, or will ever, change that. Please keep that in mind."

I nod again, fear gripping my vocal chords. I don't see what mom and dad's beginnings have to do with me, and I don't know if I want to know.

"Your father and I were just starting our relationship, and we were having fun. Then I skipped a period, and things got different."

Oh. My. God.

"You married dad because of me? Because you got pregnant?" I ask, hardly believing it. I knew she was a young mother, but I thought I had been planned. I want to be planned. My parents are both perfectly sensible, they know how dumb it is to give birth to a child without having a plan. Especially for a baby like me-- Christina Joyce Finn, the personification of fussiness.

"We didn't marry just because of you, we still really enjoyed each other's presence, and we thought... knew it could work out. You were just a bonus."

I don't believe her.

"Mom, I don't believe you. Were you and dad seriously ready to get married? Like, seriously, seriously?"

She took a bite of the goop-formerly-known-as-ice-cream before she answered. "No, we were not ready. And yes, technically, technically , we got married because of you. Because I was pregnant with you. But we really wanted you. And we did really care for each other, and we still do!"

No. No mom you don't care anymore. At least, not about dad. Because if you did, if you seriously, seriously did, then I wouldn't have had a male-substitute tell me today about your affair with him. This hurts, this hurts really, really bad.

Why-oh-why won't the earth swallow me whole right now? I need to tell her, I can't put it off anymore.

"Mom, please, just stop."

She looks concerned, "Stop what?"

"Lying! Quit lying to me," I shout, my voice rising to the ears of the other patrons. "Quit lying to me, mom," I whisper, my shoulders slouching in defeat.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, her voice shaking.

"I know mom. I know it all."

"Know what? What are you talking about Tina?" she asks again, and I can practically see her grasping for imaginary straws.

"Angel. I know about Angel. About what you've done, what you do," I can feel my lips quivering, and I'm once again wishing for that hole to take me to Wherever Land.

She just sits there in stunned silence, her little pink plastic ice-cream spoon crashing on the metal table in front of us. The spoon makes a loud clashing sound, rouring in my ears as I look up to meet her eyes.

The ice cream has failed tonight, as both my mother and I feel a brand new wound ripping open. I doubt it'll heal soon.

TBC... for real this time! So, what'd you think? Have I lost my spunk? Oh, and good 'ole B/A action is just around the corner, but I gotta push through mother-daughter depressing stuff first.


End file.
